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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730991">Splintered and Fleeting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethanol/pseuds/Ethanol'>Ethanol</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ohmy people commission me to do this? [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Love Live! Sunshine!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Runaway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:09:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730991</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethanol/pseuds/Ethanol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has their limits. Dia was no exception. Runaway in the midst of a snow storm, she stumbles across somewhere- or rather, someone unexpected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kurosawa Dia/Tsushima Yoshiko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ohmy people commission me to do this? [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Splintered and Fleeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettholly/gifts">scarlettholly</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Snow crunched beneath the weight of her boots, each step saw herself sink deeper into the thick blanket of white. Strong gales threatened to knock her down, but being knee-deep in snow kept her upright. She turned around, yellow orbs dim behind the veil of white. Why did a storm have to roll in now of all days?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia pulled at her cloak, curling into her one source of warmth. She pressed onward, pulling her legs out of the snow before sinking back in with another step. Anywhere but home, she thought. Anywhere that wasn't behind her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Japanese cypress trees battered against the wind, her vision focused on the slim but thick foliage. She pulled at the trunks, utilizing them as anchors to pull her out of the snow. She grabbed at another, a sharp pain racing through her grip when she hauled herself close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Splinters. In her rush, she forgot to bring gloves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the sting, Dia pushed on. Shaking hands made attempts to pull the splinters out. Her hand protested, but she knew to get them out before they sank deeper in her skin. She bit her bottom lip, muffling the pain. Only the shivering branches filled her ears, the forest she had entered seemingly stretching longer than she remembered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps turning around would save her from death? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia shook her head. If she went back, she'd be anything but living. That thought alone brought purpose to her weary feet, every step feeling like a battle against dying out in the cold. Her destination was unknown, but that didn't stop her from trudging on. For once in her life, Kurosawa Dia had no real plan. Despite this crushing reality, she kept going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her foot caught a root buried deep in the snow. White enveloped her vision as she fell forward, sinking into the blanket layering the earth. Dia tried to find her footing when she slipped, realizing that she had tripped onto a downhill slope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sharp crunching of frost assaulted her ears, her body at the mercy of gravity as she rolled. She pushed against the slope, slowing her descent and hoping to the Gods that she hadn't rolled off a cliff.  Eventually she slowed, her body heaving labored breaths as she laid face-up at the sky. A Prussian blue filled her sight, the wet sensation against her face as snow fell from above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached up, touching the wetness streaming from her cheek. Her fingers flinched at the warmth. When realization hit, she could only laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears. All her life, her family had taught her to keep such emotions buried deep inside. Now, truly alone in the snow, had her body finally decided to be honest?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia bit back a sob, her breathing hitching in pain. Was this her fate? Her first act of independence being her last? She was unsure if she regretted not doing it at all, or not doing it sooner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her arms propped herself up, a layering of snow whitening her clothes. She looked back up the ridge, the treeline of cypress thrashing against the gale. Dia followed the lining of trees, tracing the white to a way back into the forest. In this storm, any way out of the direct winds was preferred lest she wished to freeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia stiffened, her eyes stopped at an anomaly in the frozen scenery. Amidst the white, fluttering green, and dark expanse was a startling contrast. Two faint orbs of orange in the distance. She gathered her bearings, steadying her feet before walking to the curious glow. She remembered a fairy tale of a similar nature. A girl stranded in the winter, her solace being the visions of light that comforted her until death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Were these her comforting visions? Dia crossed the white field, her body swaying to strong gusts. Her sight blurred, but the light glowed only brighter. Dry lungs heaved a tired laugh. Was this truly it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes blinked back clarity. At least, she had hoped her visions before death were more familiar. Perhaps memories of her sister, the only one that truly made her happy. Anything of sentiment would've been preferred, and not the sight of a wooden cabin. Last she remembered, she had no definitive memory of being around one. Her family, being fishermen, were always based around the ocean. The mountains were a sight rare to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she stepped closer, her vision became much clearer. Another step came the realization that this looked too real to be the delirium of a dying woman. Her eyes tore away from the subtle glow, noticing other details of the cabin. Horizontal wood sliding layered its walls from top to bottom, two seashell windows kept the indoor lights from leaking out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above, a high pitched roof of fired clay tiles made half the length of the structure. It stretched past its conventional eaves, acting as a roofing for a porch at its facade. Dia trailed down the weathered wood frame, seeing a partially shoveled path amidst the snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the last of her strength, Dia pushed forwards, making her way to the front door. She nearly slipped on the two steps to the porch, her legs weightless as she threw herself at the door. A thick, single-piece wooden panel door stopping her fall. Wrapped knuckles banged against the door, her arms weak. The cold had stolen most of her strength, evident from how she was suddenly crouched against uneven treated wood flooring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anyone," Dia said as loud as she could, yet it was barely above the howling storm. "I seek shelter! Please, if anyone is inside!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knocked once more, her fist bumping softly against the wood. No good, she couldn't feel her fingertips anymore. Was her skin always this pale?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please..." Her voice waned, a desperate whisper against the cold wood. Perhaps this really was just a vision, a trick of the mind to give her a sense of hope?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sound above her sounded distant and she suddenly fell forward, the surface she was leaning against disappearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"H-hey! Are you still alive?" an unfamiliar voice called out. Her vision swam, suddenly filled with light. Warmth enveloped her body, the last of her strength pushed out via a quiet plea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice continued, but her mind was somewhere else. The cold left her skin, but her core still felt frozen. A strong grip held onto her, and she could only huddle close against it. It felt warm, almost like an embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who knew death was so comfortable?</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bright light filled her vision. Her body felt the ground below her. It stung to blink her eyes, but Dia deemed it necessary in order to clear her sight. She remembered the forest, her final memory being the expanse of white, and a lone cabin in the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, why was she sitting in front of a fire? She looked past the gentle flame, housed by an ashlar fireplace and hardened mortar. Its chimney worked along the wall, protruding from the wooden paneling. Slowly, her hands stretched, cupping her hands at the radiant warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey you," a voice from behind. Dia looked over her shoulder, adjusting weary eyes to the view. "You're finally awake."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her sight gave clarity to a young woman, no older than her younger sister. Hair deep like the nightly blue, the fire accentuating violent amethyst eyes. She walked to a low, Japanese cypress wooden table to set down two kiln-fired clay mugs steaming with a hot beverage. Dia swallowed, her throat dry. Despite that she opened her mouth to speak, a swift raise of a hand stilling her words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Speak after you don't look like you're about to keel over and die." The woman pushed the mug across the table closest to Dia. She sat down, taking the other before sipping quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia inched across the treated wood planks, the smooth, weathered texture against her tired fingertips. She reached the table, taking the mug by its handle and blew into it before taking a long sip. She felt her core warm from the liquid entering her body. A sigh escaped her, and she took another sip. It thawed her tongue, and she finally tasted what she had just drank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Coffee," Dia muttered against the rim of clay, but her preference of drink didn't stop her from another sip. Across the table, curious eyes watched her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry. I'm not a fan of tea," the woman answered, setting her mug down. Dia winced in response. So, she heard her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I apologize. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful." Dia bowed her head, guilt heavy in her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No need to be so formal here. Don't worry about it, okay?" the woman eased. Dia chanced a look up, meeting her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I haven't even thanked you for saving me..." Dia mumbled, nervous fingers tapping against the mug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wasn't going to let someone die in front of my front door, now was I?" She let out a bark of laughter, stopping to take a sip before continuing, "Oh right, introductions."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia hummed. Under normal circumstances, introductions should be first on the agenda. However, this was anything but the usual. She nodded her head, her back straightened to a practiced perfection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dia Kurosawa. Again, allow me to thank you for saving me." She gave a deep bow, eliciting a panicked stutter across the treated wood table. Shifting against an animal-skinned cushion, the woman raised a hand out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This isn't the emperor's palace, a simple thank you is fine," she pushed out, looking away. "And my name... Er, you can call me Yohane."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All right." Dia lifted her head, and for the first time in a long time, she showed a tiny smile. "I am pleased to meet your acquaintance, Yohane."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, Yohane chuckled, pointing a finger. "Shouldn't. After all, we've met before."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have?" Dia looked puzzled, her mind coming up blank of any memory of the woman in front of her. Yohane watched the continued confusion on her face, sighing to get her attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It wasn't anything meaningful. We bumped into each other in the market in town. We talked momentarily and that was it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-Oh..." Dia trailed off. She remembered something similar. Though, any memory of her home was something she detested and loathed remembering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yohane, still noticing the unconvinced look, brought a hand to her chin in thought. "You were hanging around some pretty rich looking folk. Come to think of it, we never looked at each other in the eye that day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose that would be my family." The memory hit her. One of her first days watching the fisheries with her family. Being the main inheritor of the business, her father deemed it necessary to show her around, each sight a strict lecture on the obligations thrust onto her. During those days, she barely remembered anything but the anxiety in her chest and the words of her father. "I apologize for not remembering, Yohane. My mind was... Preoccupied that day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No kidding," Yohane replied, taking a long sip from her drink. Dia shot a strange look, earning her a quiet sigh. "I saw you nearly freezing to death an hour ago, and you looked infinitely better than you did when you bumped into me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia bit her lip, looking away. Her silence prompted Yohane to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, what brought you to run out in the middle of a snow storm alone?" Dia looked down at her mug, watching the soft ripples along the dark surface. "Trouble at home?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...You could say that," Dia answered, her head hung low. A thoughtful hum filled the air between them, Yohane setting her mug down as she stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Want to talk about it?" She walked past Dia, picking up a cast metal fire iron laying against the ashlar. "The storm won't be letting up for the night, it seems. Unless of course, you fancy your chances walking back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't go back!" Dia said sharply. The winds battering against the cypress wood was all she could hear. She didn't dare meet Yohane's gaze after snapping like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't go back..." she repeated in a fragile whisper. Beside her was silence, save for the soft shifting of wood against stone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, that's how it is huh?" Yohane spoke up, walking back to the table across Dia. She sat, prodding a finger against the clay mug. "You have all night to think about it, Dia. Make yourself at home in the meantime."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia nodded, her words stiff. She felt guilty for yelling at the person that had saved her. Yet, she was thankful that Yohane didn't press her for more information. "Thank you for your kindness."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't mention it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence settled in the air, a choking quiet that left Dia shifting in discomfort. She sat up, movements slow from her weakened state. Yohane watched her walk curiously, eyeing every piece of furniture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry it's not any mansion you're used to," Yohane remarked, sipping from her coffee. Dia looked down, shaking her head frantically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-I didn't mean-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dia, relax." Yohane gave a look, silencing the mess of words. "It was a joke. Jeez, I guess that's why rich people hire comedians."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-oh, I see." Dia tried to laugh, but it only came out in awkward puffs of breath. Yohane shook her head, looking away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yohane, do you live alone?" Dia asked instead, hoping to move the conversation onward. She took notice of a free-standing birch wood shelf, adorned with various trinkets, books, and oddities. She walked over, a curious finger trailing along the spines of weathered text. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You could say that," Yohane shrugged, finishing the remainder of her coffee. "It's just me up here. With winter settling in, it's harder to go into town."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia listened as her eyes took in the various articles on the shelves. She slid a book out, reading the simplistic text on its spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Western mythology?" She read out, quirking a brow. She tried to grip the book, wincing when stabbing pains shot through her palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dia, what's wrong?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned her palms over, walking close to the fireplace for light. Splinters stuck out from her skin, some embedded deeper than others. Yohane walked over, eyes wide at the damage on her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sit down, I'll get them out." Yohane rushed to the kitchen. Dia could only follow with her eyes. It was a humble kitchen area, smooth stone countertops above treated wooden base cabinets. A double hung window framed its center, most likely what bled light into the outside. A cooker sat on the corner where Yohane stood, picking up a steaming kettle before pouring out its contents into a varnished wooden bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia went to sit at the table, placing her hands down on the smooth, treated wood surface. Yohane returned quickly, careful with the steaming water. Sharp metal noises dropped alongside it. "Give me your hand."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...What are you going to do?" Dia asked, her voice apprehensive. Yohane rolled her eyes, grasping one of Dia's hands and hovering them above the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to remove your splinters." Yohane flashed a smile. If it meant to comfort Dia, then it didn't work. "Take a deep breath."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, Yoha-" Before Dia could protest, her hand was brought in the hot water. She hissed, biting down on her lip from the pain. The temperature was a constant stabbing sensation, but after a minute her hand adjusted. It wasn't as hot as she had thought, more akin to a freshly drawn bath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...What?" Yohane watched the relieved look on Dia's face, scoffing in response. "I wasn't going to dunk your hand in boiling water, jeez."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia suppressed laughter, meeting the other's gaze. "Do you blame me for such an assumption? You did just boil water to make me coffee."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing gets by you huh, Dia?" Yohane returned with a laugh, trailing a thumb against Dia's palm. "What happened that got your hands like this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kept pulling myself out of the thick snow. I suppose I gripped the trees too hard."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yohane hummed, narrowing her eyes. "It's more like you haven't gripped anything before in your life, with how soft your hands feel."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia cleared her throat, fingers relaxing in the bath. "I can't tell if that was intended to be a compliment or not."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever pleases you, it's that one." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're awfully nice for someone living all the way outside like a hermit, Yohane." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia felt a pinch on her hand. Yohane giggled at the stern look sent her way. "And you're strangely alive for a princess of your caliber, Dia."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They exchanged a momentary stare, then both broke out into a fit of laughter. Dia was unsure how long it had been since she laughed so genuinely. However, the light emotions went as quickly as it came. Yohane hadn't missed the shift in expression, but she chose not to pry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All right, this might hurt a bit." Yohane picked up a long pair of tweezers, guiding it to Dia's hand. "Hold still."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia nodded, turning away as Yohane got to work. The sensation of wood splinters pulled from her hand was strange. Pained, but strange. A tense silence passed, filled with nothing but Dia's hushed curses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, why did you run?" Yohane broke the silence, lifting Dia's hand from the water before taking hold of the other. Dia gave a desperate look, but was surprised to see Yohane more focused on getting the splinters out. Was her troubles only a filler of conversation for Yohane?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of Dia wanted to be mad that her plight had seemed to be downplayed. However-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, eyes facing Yohane. "I wanted to get away from it all. From everything I had... I wanted none of it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yohane nodded in response. "Is this something related to your fancy clothes and how you looked like a dead fish when we first met?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia let out a laugh. The comparison was ironic, given her family's background. "If you must know, then I suppose so. The Kurosawa family are known in the area in the fishing business." She took a pause, sipping what was left of her coffee before she continued. "When we met, my father along with some of his business partners was showing me around what he dubbed, 'would soon be mine.'" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scoffed, looking to a random panel on the wall. Yohane glanced up, watching the difficult look on her face. "I'm guessing this whole, 'taking over the family business' thing was something you didn't like?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Didn't like?" Dia repeated, her tone dripping with disdain. "I absolutely despised it! Every waking moment since I was ten years old was my parents preparing me to inherit the family business. I couldn't spend time with my friends, not even my own sister!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have a sister?" Yohane interrupted, focusing away from a large piece of wood halfway inside Dia's palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Younger sister. She should be around your age." A smile worked its way to Dia's face. "With all the pressure on me to succeed, my parents never gave any attention to Ruby. It's like they don't care about her!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dia..." Yohane brought the needle away, successful in removing the splinters. She moved their hands out the water, leaving them to drip dry above the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"At least, they allowed me to spend time with Ruby at times since we both lived in the same house," Dia remarked, her grimace unconvinced of this silver lining.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was that bad?" Yohane asked, the response being a fervent nod of the head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Everything I did was for my family to acknowledge my efforts. Yet, anything I did was met with more pressure to succeed more and more. That wasn't even the worse part."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It wasn't?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia hummed, her voice a guilty mumble. "Ruby was never praised for anything. Not from a lack of trying, of course. She tried her hand in embroidery, needlework, textiles. And did my mother and father even bat an eye?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A frustrated growl dripped from the scowl on her face. Yohane set the needle down, moving both their hands out of the steaming water. "Well... Your hand should be fine now and-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her words were silenced by a sudden grip on her hand. Yohane looked on in surprise, trailing her gaze up to find Dia staring to where their hands joined. "Dia?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sometimes..." Her voice was weak, no louder than a whisper. Yohane leaned over, doing her best to ignore the winds outside. "Sometimes, I wonder if I was the reason why Ruby was never paid attention to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia held tighter, her hand trembling. Anger? No, but fear. Fear that her first independent decision was wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I couldn't take it anymore. It was unfair to me, and especially unfair to Ruby. Yet, what could I do?" A hitch in her voice gave her pause, biting back tears before continuing. "I thought... If I disappeared, then I could be free. Ruby would finally have the attention from our father."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's why you ran?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amethyst met Emerald in a heavy silence. Dia sighed, answering with a slow nod. "Pathetic, isn't it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yohane shook her head, threading their fingers together. The damp touch was chilling, but her skin was electrifying. She spoke against the heavy air, "You did what you wanted. No one can blame you for that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia flinched at her words. "At least, that's what I think." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>White winds battered against seashell double hung windows, the sudden noise dispelling the heavy atmosphere. Dia placed both her hands on Yohane's. A muted hum followed before she finally spoke. "You're too kind, Yohane."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman barked a laugh. Dia snapped her gaze up, meeting the humored expression. "You said that already, you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat crept up Dia's face at the realization. She pulled her hands away, tucking them down between her legs. Broken laughter attempted to ease her embarrassment, only succeeding to make Yohane laugh more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I guess if you said it twice, you must mean it," Yohane mused, words breathless between laughter. Dia looked down, finding new interest in the repeating pattern of treated wooden flooring. With the shine that met her, she guessed Yohane spent an adequate amount of time keeping it smooth despite the uneven paneling on some parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do," Dia mumbled out, chancing a quick glance at violent amethyst. Yohane quirked a brow, a moment later returning the look with a gentle smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So," she leaned back, arms propping her slender frame on the cushion. "What's your plan now, Dia?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A difficult question. Dia bit her lip, turning her eyes away to the warm glow within the ashlar fireplace. She took a deep breath, her answer nothing but honest. "I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yohane stood up, picking up the empty mugs along with the bowl of now cooled water. "You have all night to think about it, anyway." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia watched her walk to the kitchen, slipping the clay ware inside the polished marble sink. Yohane moved to her kettle, filling it up with water. "You're not going to try and walk back out into the storm, are you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scoffed at the offending remark, shooting Yohane a stern look. What met her was a coy smile. Somehow, she couldn't return it with any malice. "Of course not. It seems like I will be in your care until the storm passes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yohane nodded, showing relief that Dia barely caught sight of. She left the kettle to boil, reaching for a jar kept in the cupboards. Dia bit her lip, eyeing the unlabeled container. "Do you have anything else but coffee, Yohane?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Yohane reached up the cupboard, opening to reveal a mess of unsorted softwood boxes, unlabeled mason jars, and hand-blown glass bottles. "Knock yourself out. A friend of mine gave me some leaves. It's in there somewhere."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dia stood up, taking slow steps to the kitchen. Her eyes darted between Yohane and the cupboard. With a sigh, she reached up, starting her task by taking down the items one at a time. It was going to be a long night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stuck out amidst a storm. Company was no one short of perfect, but Dia still had her preference when it came to choosing a warm drink.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to holly for this again, at this point she's inspired how i write yohadia so definitely go check her works out</p><p>aside from it being specific to yoha being in a cabin, she wanted me to describe- in detail- furniture and fixtures of said cabin, so i hope i delivered on that front </p><p> </p><p>as always, lemme know what u think demons and hmu on the twitwats if u want me to do something special</p></blockquote></div></div>
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